


Sharing is Caring

by UrbanMuzes (notenuffcaffeine)



Category: CHAOS (TV 2011)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, M/M, a little bit domestic almost, birthdays are funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5810698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenuffcaffeine/pseuds/UrbanMuzes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy doesn’t mind sharing, mostly, but there are certain things he doesn’t want getting sent around the team.</p><p>--------</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing is Caring

Billy had this thing about sharing. He loved sharing. He did it all the time, too much, really.

“That’s Casey’s watch.”  
“No problem. I’ll get it back to him.”

or

“I think that’s the gumbo Rick’s mom sent in with him this week.”  
“Trust me, I did him a favor. We’ve got time before that meeting with Higgins, right?”  
“Five minutes. Why?”  
“Need the wee agent’s room. Rick’s mum’s orders.”

or

“Not a flyer, eh?”  
“I’m fine with flying. It’s just I gotta find the restroom.” Rick shook his head at Casey’s question.  
“It’s yer mum’s gumbo. Never before a flight, mate. Never,” advised Billy as he edged out of Rick’s way.  
As Rick scuttled off to the back of the plane, Billy eased from his aisle seat, stretched a moment, then ducked his way past Casey and Michael to claim the abandoned window seat. There, he stretched again and slouched comfortably. Michael and Casey raised a brow at each other before looking to Billy.  
“Billy? That was Rick’s seat.” As team leader, it was Michael’s job to keep tabs on when the members of his team were behaving like eight-year-olds.  
“Yeah, but it’s the window! He’s in the can. I’ll just keep it warm a bit. Nobody minds a little sharing.”

or

“What the hell, Billy. That’s my toothbrush.”

At which point, the man looked over at Michael, brow raised, toothbrush lolled out the corner of his smug grin. 

“So?” he asked. And Michael was glad their travel accounts at least afforded them two bedrooms with a pair of full/queens instead of only one room split between four men. If Casey had seen the exchange, or worse, Rick, then it would have been the beginning of the end of their careers. Since the others had their own room, Michael popped his toothbrush out of Billy’s mouth and went about his nightly travel rituals.

“Forgot yours again?” Michael asked. “I warned you about this getting old thing. The brain is the first to go.”

“You breathe one word, to anyone, that it’s my birthday, and I tell Higgins it was you who volunteered his department for the Little League play-off charity last year.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“The one where he had to dress up as the mascot because the refs told him he was too old to play? What was it? A chicken suit?”

“Rooster,” said Michael. Billy nodded, gamely carrying on as Michael moved off to change out of his suit.

“Ah, that’s right, twas you who sent around the photographic evidence even though we were in the air, somewhere over Europe at the time those images were posted in the hallways.”

“No, of course not. I just think the rooster suit was an improvement of his usual,” said Michael. The tone was far too innocent. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Michael had been responsible. The genius would have to be employed to figure out exactly how he had arranged it all from off the grid while doing surveillance in Russia, but it still got back to Michael somehow. Billy grinned at him, smug as he crossed his arms, shrugged.

“True. I figure he’s working his way back up from his former life as a toad,” he said.

“Agreed.”

“Good. Then I won’t have to sit through any damn happy singing?” asked Billy.

Michael smirked over at him as he started turning down the stiff hotel sheets on his bed. “I didn’t agree to that. Casey’s got a great voice.”

“Yer missin’ the point. I like working for the CIA because they keep everything a secret. Up to and including the year of my birth.”

“Oh, I caught it.” Michael grinned again, watching a flustered Billy flick off the bathroom light to more appropriately glare at him. “I just don’t quite understand why you’d rather leave everyone assuming you’re a foundling raised by wolves or something. It’s just a birthday.”

“They do not,” said Billy. The defensive tone faltered. “I dress better than that.”

“Sharpest suit on the team,” agreed Michael. “But consider the rest going against you. Sure, shiny sleek coat, but you never shave properly, you take other people’s things - like my toothbrush, for instance - you make a mess when you order even the best item off the menu, particularly the lobster, and if it’s got legs, you’ll be all over it if left unsupervised. Kinda like Faye’s old Jack Russell and the kitchen table.”

“No fair bringing your wife into this,” said Billy, a hand raised to point at Michael accusingly. “Everything, except that last bit which is entirely fabricated, is part of my rugged charm.”

“Or proof you were raised by wolves.” Michael smirked at Billy as he started to climb in to his own bed. “So I think tomorrow I might mention it. See how long it takes to get around the office. Just to clear up the rumors.”

Decision made, Michael was able to turn off his bedside lamp and rest comfortably between the bedsheets. The silence that followed, however, was a little too cozy and he looked over at Billy cautiously. Through the shadows, he could see the man turning down his bed covers finally, suspiciously quiet on the threat from his boss. He moved blindly around the room for a bit, too far in shadows to be seen, finally returning to place his watch down on the bedside table. A moment later, the half-naked Scot had turned away from his own bed and was settling in to Michael’s. Michael stared at him, brows arched curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep?” returned Billy.

“In my bed? What’s wrong with yours?”

“Nothin’,” said Billy. He shrugged and arranged the blankets comfortably around himself, yanking some layers threateningly away from Michael’s side of the bed. “But if you’re going to out me to the whole office with this birthday business, I’ve no problems ruining your reputation with the lads. We’re close enough to a military operation that Casey’ll stick to the don’t ask, don’t tell business. Rick might ask, but you’re his boss. You don’t have t’tell.”

“Funny you should mention that. It happens that I’m your boss too.”

“Yeah? How’s that workin’ out for ya, Mikey boy?” Billy smirked at him. Michael sighed and stared at the ceiling to get away from that grin.

“Fine. I won’t tell anyone it’s your birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Now will you go to your bed?”

The most devilish puppy-dog eyes to ever grace the planet turned on Michael then. Billy, despite being a full grown man, even pouted. He curled up on his side and a hand slid smoothly under the covers to tuck an arm around Michael’s middle.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. It’s a connected room in a foreign country. I don’t want to worry about emergency visitors. We’re working, remember.”

Billy rolled his eyes at the rhetorical. “Gee, I forgot.”

“Uh-huh. Right.”

“Michael?”

“What?” The response was appropriately hesitant because Billy’s question had been far too innocent.

“Didn’t you say tomorrow’s my birthday?”

“According to your file, yeah.”

“What’d you get me?”

“Nothing. You said no publicizing and presents tend to draw attention. Especially when only one person is giving them out.”

“Not all presents draw attention.”

As the exchange unfolded, Billy had been sneaking ever closer under the covers. The last word was accented by a long leg sliding against Michael’s, curious fingers tracing along his ribs. Michael sighed, as though he was completely blindsided by the advances.

“Is the door locked?”

The question was answered by a nod, but that could have just been the effort Billy was putting in to the sweet spot along Michael’s collar bone, nuzzling, licking, and a playful bite that broke through his professional resolve. On assignment was so the worst place and time for distractions. 

“If it’s not, you’re bunking with Casey tonight just for your own good,” Michael said in the spirit of fair warning. He nudged Billy up off of his neck and the man adjusted quickly, face to face a moment later with a grin.

“Door handle’s half broke off an’ Rick’ll wanna practice with the lock picks. We got a good thirty seconds warning before Casey’d kick the door in,” said Billy. Michael smiled back at him, rather pleased with himself for remembering Billy’s birthday. There were still certain things the man didn’t just share with everybody, after all.


End file.
